Spare Parts
by FeatheredFiend
Summary: •Because he failed, because she's human, because he's a hero• Ratchet, Maggie, Jazz


_Title: Spare Parts  
>Fandom: Transformers<br>Author: Feathered Fiend  
>Characters: Ratchet, Maggie, Jazz<br>Genre: Angst  
>Rating: PG<br>Status: One Shot, Complete  
>Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, else things would have been a lot different.<br>Warning: This contains character death (thanks to Jazz) and slight ooc-ness._

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><p>"Death is the last enemy: once we've got past that I think everything will be alright."<br>— Alice Thomas Ellis

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><p>Slender fingers brush through blond hair, the young human female seems to just stand back, seems to just watch— <em>because that's all a human can do<em>. She observes how to the medic lingers over the makeshift cot— _made completely out of a sheet of metal large enough to hold the other robot_— with his azure optics solely on the task at hand. She has heard how the others deemed this hopeless and she is surprised— _because someone of his intelligence is still willing to try_— at the autobot's actions. If this was a different time, a different place, a different situation, she may have smiled at this simple sign of hope. However, she can't do anything more then watch this pathetic attempt to save an offlined creature— _because she's human and that's all she can do_.

Sensing her there, he chooses to ignore it as he tries to mold the brutally dismembered robot back together. Attachments buzz to life, lights and other equipment strain at his attempt— _because in truth, there was nothing he could do_. He knows the truth, he isn't stupid, but it doesn't stop him—_ because he never did like to lose a soldier_. No matter what the robot tries, it fails— _because the younger 'bot's spark was gone_— and it is truly worthless. He stops trying, leaning over and stroking the deceased creature's helm—_ because he failed him_— and whispers apologies in his native tongue— _because the observing human couldn't understand_.

The tears burning at her eyes surprises her— _because she was not an emotional person, because she didn't need to understand the words, she understood the motions_. Her body seems to move on its own— _because she knew better then to approach, but it seemed her legs didn't know_— and her feet thud quietly against the ground, making her way over to the kneeling and clearly distraught medic. She can't remember his name— _because the others involved never told her, because she isn't supposed to be here_— so she merely stands behind him, her small, trembling hand reaching out. Flesh meets metal, her fingers brushing over one of the armor plates— _because she doesn't really know what else to do_.

"You shouldn't be here," he comments— _because its true_. "You should be with the others, human girl."

She counters, "So should you."

He tenses— _because he knows she has a point_— but still keeps his back to her— _because she doesn't need to view his mistakes._ He shutters his optics in an attempt to keep himself focused and calm— _because the human wouldn't understand, because all he wants to do is break_. He can feel her soft flesh against his icy metal outer-shell—_ because its relaxing the way she is stroking it_— and he almost wants to confide in this much younger creature. However, he knows better—_ because she is just a human, because she would not understand, because she is so young_. Suddenly, there is a bitter feeling entering his spark—_ because he is jealous of her_.

"I must say," he replies dryly—_ because he is bitter_— and wants to glare, but doesn't. "I do not believe it is any of your business where I am and am not."

"I'd have to say the same to you," she adds—_ because she is slightly offended_— and catches him off guard. He turns his head, his optics meeting those tiny blue eyes of the human— _because he almost wants to see what is going through this child's mind_. The girl, surprisingly, doesn't look angry or frustrated with the robot—_ because it isn't his fault_— but instead, seems concerned—_ because he lost someone, because he's upset_. She realizes his words were bitter because of this, and feels guilt bubbling in her stomach. "There was nothing you could do."

"I had to try," the medic replies evenly— _because she doesn't need to know he wants to break_.

She frowns, "He died a hero."

"He's going to be spare parts now," the autobot counters— _because he doesn't know what else to say, because the human is confusing_.

"No, he won't," the girl responses as if it were the most obvious thing—_ because it is_. "You won't let him become that."

"How do you know," his audio growls. "How do you know what I will or will not do?"

"Because we're going to bury him," she answers calmly— _because that's all she can do_.

Confused, the Autobot shutters his optics, "What?"

"We're going to bury him," she repeats herself— _because the offlined bot deserves it_. "He needs a hero burial. Start digging."

"And what are you going to do," he questions— _because he doesn't know what else to say, because this is just odd to him_.

"I'm going to clean him up," she answers with a reassuring smile, taking off her jacket and making her way over to the small alien. She kneels down and starts to work, trying to remove the dirt and filth that covered the armor. She doesn't make eye contact with the large robot— _because she doesn't want to see his expression_— while she brushes the cloth against metal. She doesn't hear movement for some time, but soon feels the earth give a small shake under the giant's weight—_ because now he knows she's serious_. She glances up at the deceased robot's optics, smiling sadly—_ because this is just a depressing situation_— then leans up, whispering some sort of apology in what she guessed would have been his ear.

The work was almost completed when the medic returned to her side, kneeling down nearby— _but not too close, because he's still uncertain about this human_. When she doesn't look up at him, he finds himself leaning forward and seemingly hovering over her tiny form. He watches for a moment, realizing the determination in the female's actions— _so small, so helpless, yet trying so hard for reasons he didn't know_. He frowns as he questions her— _asking her why she is doing this_— and is surprised at her answer.

"Because," she pauses in her work to glance up at him—_ because she wants to see the surprise in his optics_. "I'm human."

"I see," he replies with uncertainity— _because he doesn't know what else to say, because he doesn't quite understand what she means_. He isn't surprised though, when the human just goes back to her pathetic attempts of cleaning—_ because he knows that this is the only way she could help out in the battle she isn't apart of_— and he doesn't stop her—_ because that would be wrong_. He just watches her—_ because that's all he can do_— and notices that her body seemed to be tiring— _because even though the robot was small to his species, he was still large compared to the human female_. However, just as he is about to say something—_ to tell her that she is finished_— the girl smiles meekly and backs away from the offlined alien.

"There," she pipes up and backs off a bit more—_ because she didn't want to get hit as the larger bot picks up the smaller_. She watches as the medic lowers the corpse into the ground, but finds herself stepping forward as he lifts up a mound of dirt. "Wait! We're not done."

The medic appears confused—_ because he is not accustom to the ways of her kind_. "What is left to do?"

"We need to say something about him," she answers—_ because she now has a plan, one she thought about as she cleaned_.

"_What_?"

"We need to say something about him," she repeats— _because even though she knows its a rhetorical question, she still feels the need to_. "Like a prayer, or just some words about him in his memory. It's proper, especially for a hero."

"Alright," the mech replies in agreement— _because he doesn't want to cause trouble with this odd human female_. He places the mound of dirt down—_ because he isn't sure how the human would react if he didn't_— and finds himself kneeling before the massive hole where the deceased was currently resting. He speaks quietly— _because he doesn't know exactly what to say_— but somehow goes from just speaking vague words to tales of the dead's bravery in battle and friendship off of it, little things that once made him angry with the smaller bot and how he was going to miss those moments know. He rambles these things in his quieted voice, almost a whisper to him but the girl can hear everything clearly— _because she is listening closely_.

He finishes and begins to meekly fill in the hole—_ because he is sure this is how it is supposed to be_— and fails to notice that the human had disappeared off towards a thinly wooded area of the field. It isn't until he is finished that he notices her returning, plucking something off her wrist and holding what looks to be two small sticks. He is confused by this— _because he doesn't know what she's about to do_— and observes as she uses what appears to be a rubber-band to make what looks to be an odd 'x'. It isn't until she is back at his side that he questions her again—_ asking what she is doing_— and gets a rather odd answer.

"A cross," she motions to the sticks as she kneels down at the top of the grave. She places the object she created into the ground, glancing over her shoulder with a meek smile. She adds, "Just until we get something better for him, y'know?"

"I see," he nods slowly— because he isn't sure how to respond at this time. They fall into a silence as they stand in the middle of the field, hovering over the grave of the alien's fallen friend— because now neither of them know what to say. They stay like that for quite some time— maybe about ten minutes— before the robot finds something to say to the small human— because he needs to know. "Why did you do this?"

She frowns— _because she's a bit annoyed at his question_, "I told you already."

"Yes, but I do know something about humans," the robot replies a bit more on edge then he intended. "You do know do something like this for someone you do not know, and you did not know Jazz."

"True," she glances up at the giant alien, "But sometimes humans can surprise you."

"That does not answer the question."

"I already answered it before," she countered with a light smile— _because she knows he's frustrated, and it amuses her for some reason_.

He warns despite himself, "Human female."

"**Maggie**, my name is Maggie," she replies with a small frown—_ because she doesn't like being called anything but her name_. "And if you must know, I did it because even robots need to mourn."

He stares, "What...?"

"Nothing," she smiles and brushes herself off as she stands. She turns and begins to leave the robot**— **_because she can_— but is surprised by the sound of him transforming into his alternate mode. She hears an engine roaring to life and tires digging through dirt, but it doesn't stop her from continuing her walk back to the city— _because she has to get back before she is missed._ However, soon the medic's vehicle form appears beside her— _because now he's curious about this small human_. She turns her blue gaze to the hummer, smiling once more, "What is it?"

"Get in," he answers as his driver's door opens and stops at her side.

She tilts her head— _almost like a puppy_— and questions, "Why?"

"I," he pauses— b_ecause he doesn't want her to know the truth, so he lies_. "I believe it would not be best for you to walk the entire way, your body is already tired, you can rest on the way if— "

"Alright, alright," she smiles an all knowing smile— _because she knows more then most are probably comfortable with, especially the medic_. She climbs inside and over to the passenger side, belting her seat belt—_ because there's no way she can seriously look like she is driving him_. "Let's go." No more is said as the hummer starts back up again, driving the two through the field and towards the city— _because neither completely understand, but this is the beginning of a friendship like no other_. An alien medic robot and a rebellious analyst—_ because sometimes horrible things turn into something good_.

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><p>.Author's Note.<p>

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><p>Alright, so it wasn't as good as I originally thought it was, mostly because I had to rewrite it six different times due to computer issues. I'm sorry if it turned out like something insanely stupid, but it was a plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone. It bugged me and bugged me, which is how these little pieces normally start. I'm sorry for any errors in grammarspelling, or fails involving the fandom (mismatched scenes, ooc, etc), but I tried. This piece belongs to the upcoming one shot series called "Whatshername" which involves Maggie interacting with others.

Also, it would be nice if you reviewed but you don't have to. If you do leave a review, try to be signed in so I can reply (because replying to reviews is polite).

All in all, its not bad but not my best work, enjoy.

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><p><em>.Edit<em> **[4/25/2011; 2:39 AM]** I forgot to change the NC-17 to PG, because in the beginning it was going to be violent as all heck. Thank you **Metalchick36** for noticing that. Cheers.


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